


saturdaze

by ineveryreality



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Modern AU, Morning Sex, Sexual Content, roommate Pidge, soft sheith, they deserve this ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-28 00:21:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16230326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ineveryreality/pseuds/ineveryreality
Summary: keith and shiro enjoy a lazy, rainy saturday morning





	saturdaze

It’s Saturday morning and Shiro is kissing him. It’s the only thing Keith is aware of aside from the fact that they’re laying on the couch, Kosmo has stuffed himself into the narrow space between their feet and the armrest, and Shiro is shirtless.

He’s lost track of how long they’ve been like this. Blissed out to the extent that he can hardly move his body, which is fine because he’s more than content to continue laying in Shiro’s arms for as long as Shiro wants to hold him. Nothing exists outside of the gentle glide of Shiro’s lips and the occasional dip of his tongue in Keith’s mouth.

“You’re not going to fall asleep on me, are you?” Shiro asks, amused.

Keith’s eyes are closed. “Mmm.”

Shiro chuckles, and his mouth moves to Keith’s jaw. Keith’s head is cradled in the crook of Shiro’s elbow, and suddenly the weight of the other arm wrapped around his waist disappears. Keith lets out a frustrated breath and feels a smile against his neck.

Shiro pushes Keith’s unzipped hoodie open to expose more of his stomach and chest. Presses warm skin against skin. Keith wants to take back his irritated huff but doesn’t have the energy for it. Cool metal fingers wander over his ribs before slipping around his side, palm sliding up his back and forcing Keith’s eyes open with a quiet gasp.

“Is this okay?” Shiro asks against his skin. He’s always asking that question, but Keith loves him for it.

“Yeah,” Keith says. “Just colder than I expected.”

Shiro chuckles again. “Sorry,” he says, but he doesn’t sound it.

He returns to mouthing at Keith’s neck, his ear. The lights are off and it’s a drizzly day, but the glow from the windows gives off enough light. Keith smooths his hands over warm skin, revels in the muscles of Shiro’s back moving under his palms. And then Shiro’s the one to let out a contented hum when Keith threads his fingers into the back of Shiro’s hair and scratches lightly.

The rain picks up outside. It’s nap weather and Keith is cozy and warm with Shiro wrapped around him.

“I could stay like this with you all day,” Keith says.

Shiro pulls back to look at his face, eyes bright. “Yeah?”

Keith nods and leans up to capture his mouth again.

“I don’t think Pidge would appreciate that,” Shiro says between kisses.

Keith just sighs into his mouth. Because Pidge has gone to visit her parents for the day and they have the apartment to themselves for a little while, at least.

Keith had woken up that morning and thrown on enough clothes to take Kosmo out in the drizzle. Then Shiro had surprised him by showing up with breakfast from the cafe they liked down the street, hair damp and sparkling with raindrops because he can never remember an umbrella. He never seems bothered by it, though.

When Keith had told him about Pidge, Shiro had just grinned and crowded him back against the couch, their coffees and food left forgotten on the kitchen table.

“She’s been texting me when she’s on her way home now, though. You know, after last time.”

Shiro goes red at the memory. He laughs, hides his face in Keith’s neck.

They were in what Keith’s roommate referred to as the “sparkly eyed honeymoon” phase of their relationship. Everyone was sick of their doe eyes and public displays of affection, except for them. Pidge teased him relentlessly, always light and playful because she knew how long Keith had been waiting for it.

“You know, we never got to finish,” Keith tells him.

Shiro doesn’t respond immediately. His mouth is too preoccupied with marking Keith’s collarbone. Keith slips his fingers down Shiro’s back and underneath his jeans, the band of his underwear. He lightly digs his fingertips into the flesh there and tries again.

“What we were doing when Pidge walked in on us. We never got to finish that.”

Shiro stalls a moment, but then their eyes meet and there’s a spark. A tiny blip of electricity that makes Keith’s insides flutter like a leaf. He reaches out, brushes his thumb over the top of a strong cheekbone, under dark lashes. Shiro gives him a lazy smile. Takes a kiss.

And then Keith is being hauled upright and propped against the middle cushion. Kosmo huffs at the jostle of the pillows and jumps off the couch, eyeing them like _he knows_. He wanders down the hall to Pidge’s room.

Shiro slides to the floor and positions himself between Keith’s legs, hands wandering up plaid pajama pants and curving around his waist.

“Shiro...” Keith starts. Because this is technically not allowed. Sex acts on Pidge’s couch were under section seven of the roommate terms and conditions and he is fairly certain he could be sued for this. “If Pidge finds out—”

But Shiro cuts him off with a kiss and a swipe of his tongue over Keith’s.

“Finds out what?” Shiro asks. He presses short, sweet kisses to Keith’s mouth.

He has to clamp down hard on his train of thought. “She’ll know. She will know if my bare asscheeks touch this couch.”

“How’s she gonna know?”

Keith stares at him. “She knows everything. Have you—? You’ve met Pidge.”

“Come on, Keith,” Shiro murmurs. “We're never here just the two of us. I just wanna make you feel nice.”

He presses an open mouthed kiss to the spot where Keith’s jaw meets his neck, followed by a light graze of teeth. Another spark skitters through Keith’s body.

“Yeah, okay,” he says.

Shiro gives him the smallest of smirks.

He starts at the center of Keith’s chest and works his way down. The sight of Shiro’s head moving over his torso, warm mouth against his navel, nearly does Keith in. The tip of Shiro’s tongue travels along one side of the vee of muscles between his hips and heat sweeps over him everywhere.

Shiro looks up and his eyes don’t leave Keith’s as his fingers dip beneath the waistband of his sleep pants. Keith lifts his hips enough for them to be pulled down and cool air hits him. He lets his legs fall open and Shiro immediately leans in to press a kiss at the base of his shaft. He is always considerate and sweet in the beginning.

“Not that this isn’t great,” Keith says, “but this isn’t exactly what I meant.”

Shiro pauses with his mouth an inch away from where Keith is hard and ready.

“I can stop if you want.” There’s a glint in his eyes, more of those sparks.

“No, no,” Keith laughs sheepishly. He spreads his thighs a fraction. Invites him back in.

“Uh huh.” Shiro’s got a real smirk this time, and then licks along the underside of Keith’s cock. Takes it in his mouth, rolls his tongue over the head, gives it a slow suck.

“Shit,” Keith breathes.

“Do you not remember how it started?” Shiro says, voice low. His hands glide up Keith’s thighs. “Before we were interrupted?”

Keith doesn’t try very hard to remember it. Can’t, not with the way Shiro swallows him again, taking him deep. His mouth is so warm. Shiro’s eyes are closed, and he sets a pace that he knows drives Keith insane. Not quite fast enough, just shy of how he likes it. It makes him squirm.

After a morning of lying in Shiro’s arms, it doesn’t take long for the heat to build, low and steady. Shiro’s thumbs rub smooth circles into his hip bones, and he starts to feel like he might melt right into the throw pillows and through the weave of the blanket they’d been wrapped in.

“Mmm, fuck,” Keith sighs, feeling good and molten on the inside. He traces a fingertip along the concave line of Shiro’s hollowed cheek, can feel his cock moving in there and it short-circuits something in his brain.

A breathy moan. “ _Shiro_.”

Grey eyes lift to his. He’s always washing over Keith like a lazy roll of thunder. Shiro is the kind you can curl up to.

Large hands wander from his hips to splay over his abs. Keith wants to lay his head back, close his eyes and just _feel_ , but he can never look away from those slick red lips around him and the fall of Shiro’s bangs over his face. Keith threads his fingers through them, pushes them back, anchors his hand in moon-white locks.

The problem with not looking away is that he comes faster. Shiro bobs his head, adds a hand around the base in addition to his mouth and pumps a couple of times, twisting on the upstrokes and Keith comes apart. His hips stutter and he grips the couch as Shiro takes him, all of him perfectly. Keith breathes his name until he can see straight again.

“Fuck, babe,” Keith says, pulling Shiro back up to him. He presses their foreheads together to take a quiet moment to find their breath.

He’d been content to just kiss his boyfriend for hours, but there’s a flame in him now, smoldering and honey-sweet.

“Hey,” Keith murmurs, then catches a wet mouth with his own. “Will you fuck me now?”

Shiro laughs breathlessly at the casualness in Keith’s tone. Keith smiles, grabs another kiss.

“Yeah,” Shiro says onto his lips. “Yeah, I’ll fuck you.”

He leans forward and wraps Keith up in his arms, kissing him desperately deep for several moments until they’ve lost the breath they just got back. Shiro pushes Keith’s hoodie from his shoulders. Removes the pajama pants from around his ankles.

“Wait, we can’t…” Keith starts. “We actually can’t do this part here. I really think Pidge could murder me.”

Shiro chuckles, rises, and scoops him up. Keith wraps his bare legs around Shiro’s waist. Rain splashes against the windows as Keith is carried down the hall. Thunder rumbles softly in the distance.

When Shiro presses Keith’s front into his mattress, Keith’s still out of breath and realizes he’s not going to get it back until this is over. But he doesn’t give it much thought because Shiro is moving over him, pressing slicked fingers between his cheeks and hot kisses down his spine.

He’s struck with anticipation as Shiro rolls on a condom and slicks himself up, but it dissipates when a comforting hand runs over his back in smooth, broad strokes. Their relationship is new and they’ve done this before, but not many times yet.

Shiro gets an arm under him and lifts until Keith is on his hands and knees, and then Shiro slides in with small thrusts. Keith groans at the stretch. It pushes all the air from his lungs, but Shiro curves over him and murmurs comforting words in his ear. _That’s it, baby_ and _you’re so good, baby, good and hot._

This is the part Keith loves. Being surrounded by Shiro. Surrounded by him in every way that he could be. He leans his head up until their cheeks brush, reaches back for Shiro’s hip, pressing to keep him there, to keep him close. And they just stay like that for a moment, all the lines of Shiro’s body flush with his while Keith adjusts to the fullness of him.

Shiro trails soft kisses across one shoulder. Keith turns to seek out Shiro’s mouth and gets what he wants. Slow affectionate kisses. Sure and safe.

“How’s this?” he asks, giving a gentle roll.

Shiro is a dream.

“Yeah,” Keith says, breathless. “That’s good.”

Then Shiro moves, and Keith is still surprised by the impossible perfection of it. He hopes he never gets used to the way Shiro fits and feels. He brackets a thick arm around Keith’s shoulder and across his chest, rocks his hips in a steady rhythm that has them both breathing hard and Keith’s fingers twisting in the sheets.

Shiro adjusts. Knows exactly how to tilt his hips and hit him just right in one slow deliberate stroke. Electricity streaks through Keith’s body and lightning flares across his vision. Shiro does it again and Keith has no control over the hoarse sound that escapes his mouth.

He feels a grin against his back.

“Show off,” he mutters, but searches for Shiro’s mouth again.

“I’m not showing off,” Shiro says in his ear. His voice is husky and already a little wrecked. “I just know what you like.”

Keith groans. Shiro claims his mouth and then hauls him upright again.

And he _does_ know what Keith likes. This. The constant contact, the care Shiro uses as his hands drift over the muscles of Keith’s stomach, his chest. Hands as hungry as the rest of him. Strong arms wrap around Keith’s middle to hold him in place.

“Move with me, babe,” Shiro whispers.

Heat curls deeper in Keith’s belly.

He means to answer, to say something clever, but Shiro starts thrusting again and all Keith can manage is a drawn out undignified noise. He lays his head back against Shiro’s shoulder, vaguely aware that he’s gone so pliant that Shiro’s arms are the only things keeping him upright.

“Don’t let go,” he pants.

“I’ve got you.” Shiro tightens his grip, banding Keith to his chest. “I’ve got you.”

Their hips roll. The storm clouds must roll in too because Keith’s room grows a shade darker. But it’s all warm breath and finger tips digging into sweat-slick skin. Keith is lost in the movement, the drag of Shiro’s cock in and out, and he feels himself quickly on the way to being overwhelmed.

The pace picks up and the room fills with the sound of their breaths, puffed-out moans. Their own little storm clouds that float up and hang in the air. Shiro’s softly murmured praises are constant and reassuring.

“Baby, you feel, _ah_. You feel—” The words dissolve into indistinguishable sounds.

“God, Shiro,” Keith breathes. He can barely get his own voice to work. “That’s so good. Keep doing that.”

And he does, until Keith’s panting and every breath comes with a curse or a moan. His hair hangs damp in his face. He burns and he aches and _aches_. He’s hard between his legs but doesn’t want to touch himself yet. Wants this to last as long as it can.

“Fuck,” Keith whispers. “Shiro—”

Shiro cuts him off by taking Keith in his human hand, and an actual whimper falls out of Keith’s mouth. Shiro curses and strokes from base to tip in time with his thrusts.

“Ah, shit, _Shiro_.”

“That’s it, babe. I’ve got you,” he says, even as his voice shakes.

It lights something in Keith though, and he decides that Shiro needs to come first before he comes again. So he brushes Shiro’s hand away and redoubles his own efforts, moving faster on him until even Shiro can’t keep quiet. Keith’s name falls from his lips like sheets of rain. He mouths at every bit of Keith’s skin he can get to.

Keith clenches and it punches the air out of Shiro’s lungs.

“Shit, Keith—”

But he doesn’t let up, squeezing as they move. Shiro curves further into Keith’s body until he’s bent over in the sheets again and Shiro is panting hard.

He cries out when he falls apart, buried deep, face pressed into Keith’s hair at the nape of his neck. Keith continues to roll his hips slowly, gently until Shiro stills.

“Fuck, Keith,” Shiro breathes. “I can’t believe you.”

Keith just hums lightly. Shiro gently grabs his chin and turns his face to the side for a kiss. He pulls out carefully, dispensing of the condom. He winds an arm around Keith again, metal fingers reaching for him. Then Keith feels human fingers slide in where Shiro’s dick had been and move at the same time Shiro’s other hand strokes him.

Keith nearly collapses.

“Want it like this?” Shiro’s voice is rough and smoldering.

Another undignified and incoherent noise is all Keith can manage as he struggles to prevent his arms and legs from giving out. Shiro is too good at this, too good to him.

“ _Please_.”

And with Shiro’s strong, slick body at his back, his lips at his ear, it only takes a moment. Everything that Shiro is, every reason why Keith loves him—has loved him for years—tumbles over him again, but this time it’s loud. A crack of thunder that shakes him and sends tremors through his bones, whites out his vision.

Shiro strokes him through it with a soft chorus of _baby baby that’s it_ until he’s spent and sensitive, then lowers him to the sheets and kisses him gently for several moments. Keith feels sated physically but he’s still greedy for the way Shiro’s lips move against his. He’s not sure that’s something he could actually get enough of.

After Shiro cleans them up, they lay on the duvet and listen to the downpour. Their legs are tangled and Keith’s got his cheek pressed to Shiro’s chest. Counts his heartbeats until his eyelids turn heavy and begin to droop. He likes this just as much as the rest of it. The calm that comes after.

Shiro noses at his temple. His lips ghost over Keith’s skin, his cheekbone, his jaw.

Keith smiles to himself when Shiro nudges him and asks, “How are you?”

He should know by now how Keith is after, but it’s cute. Always trying to make sure he’s okay and comfortable—no matter how many times Keith tells him he’s never been this comfortable with another person in his whole life.

Keith’s stomach growls before he can answer properly. Shiro’s laugh shakes the whole bed.

“Come on,” he says, tugging Keith’s hand. “I’ll heat up your breakfast.” And Keith allows himself to be dragged to his feet and put in a clean pair of pajama pants. Shiro digs out the pair he keeps in Keith’s dresser.

It’s noon by the time they settle back into the couch with their reheated coffees and food. Doesn’t take long after that for Keith to curl back into Shiro’s side with a blanket. Kosmo reappears and noses at their empty plates.

Despite the caffeine, Keith is a moment from sleep when his phone buzzes on the coffee table and he groggily reaches for it from where he’s sprawled over Shiro’s lap.

He reads the text and can’t help the grin that spreads across his face.

“What?” Shiro asks.

“Pidge is going to stay at her parents’ for the rest of the weekend.”

**Author's Note:**

> i'm new to writing fanfic and have never posted any before, so any comments would be appreciated <3
> 
> i have a somewhat new vld blog on tumblr, come [chat with me if you'd like](http://www.ineveryreality.tumblr.com) :)


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